Matt's Favor
by gildedlittlegumdrops
Summary: Matt's gotten sick! Now how could Mello make him feel better? (Drag, silliness, and rated T for swearing!)


First Fic! Wish me luck~

Hey, I'm Mello. No, that's not my real name. You probably shouldn't know my real name. I live here in this flat with my partner, Matt. That's not his real name. Anyways, this place is a shithole. It's not like we can't afford something better, but with my chocolate and Matt's fucking games,this is where we live. I like it well enough.

Today was just another boring day. No news on Kira, no news on the rival gangs, no news on anything, really. Except for some about those dogs in human clothes. Those cute little fuckers. I was watching those cute little fuckers on the TV when I heard a particularly unsettling noise coming from the bathroom. So many poop jokes from elementary school were swarming through my head that it took me a while to get to the door and ask if Matt was doing okay.

"Guh, yeah… I'm, I'm fine. Don't worr-" That horrible sound repeated itself.

"Matt, seriously. Are you throwing up?" I ask, more than a bit concerned. Matt chuckled.

"Kinda," he said simply, and gagged once more. It couldn't have been something he ate; we've been eating the same old thing for weeks. Why would anything be different now?

Then it hit me. "Matt, did you go to that fucking cosplay café again? That place serves fucking poison!" I bark at him, though I know it won't get through his thick skull.

"Heh, How'd you know?" Matt opened the bathroom door slowly, holding a large bowl that no doubt had been very recently filled with vomit. The stench made that very clear. Beyond the odor of bile, the oddly comforting smell of smoke also greeted my senses. I don't think my partner will ever go without a cigarette nearby.

I scoffed. "Well, this is what you get! Vomiting all over yourself, and right as we had plans to go out clubbing! It's fine though," I teased, "I'll have plenty of fun without you!" A small smirk grows on my lips as I watch Matt's eyes swell with defeat.

"Well, if you're gonna go out without me, can I ask for one thing?"

"What is it?"

Matt smiled sweetly. "Hold on!" He sang as he rushed to the small storage room and began to rummage about noisily. A while later he emerged from the hallway with his signature childish grin, as he held up what seemed to be… no.

"Matt, no way in HELL am I wearing that! I'll look ridiculous!"

"Ah, don't be such a spoil-sport, I bought this just for you! It'll look great, trust me!" After a while of debate, I had agreed to try the dress on. I emerged from the bathroom (that still held the faint scent of stomach acid) clad with the sweet black dress Matt had bought for me however long ago. Now, I wouldn't admit this, but the soft lace and the big cupcake-shaped skirt paired with red mary janes and thigh-high stockings did make me feel beautiful. It was like I had realized a passion that I never knew I had. I'd never admit this, but I look damn good in lolita.

"I feel better already." Matt declared with a smile, caressing my cheek.

"Don't touch me, sicko." I huffed, and removed his hand from my face. But if this makes you feel better, I guess I'll go out in this."

Matt's face lit up like motherfucking Christmas in New York City. Damn, he was cute. "Perfect! You look just like a doll," he praised, with a puppy-dog pout on his lips.

"Fucked up doll." I look into the mirror, right at that scar. A small smile creeped onto my face. This is for Matt, I reassured myself, and I was back to my confidence from moments before.

"Shh," Matt hushed me. "I just know you're gonna get first place!"

First… place? What was this idiot talking about now? Before I could ask, he continued, "The drag competition at The Sassy Sip tonight is the biggest in town! Everyone will love you! Not to mention the prizes! First place gets a year's supply of their signature vodka, a trip to one of those gay cruises to the Caribbean, and a check for $5,000! ((about 3,285 pounds hehe))"

"Matt, babe…" I start, "Do you honestly think I could win a competition against actual drag queens?"

"Well, heh, not really," Matt said bluntly while rubbing the back of his neck. "I just thought you'd look cute! Will you try it, for me?" He pulled those puppy dog eyes on me and I just couldn't resist.

Immediately after signing up for the competition, I regretted it. These people were crazy. Bustling around and screaming at each other in such thick slang that made it seem like a foreign tongue, I was utterly lost.

"Hey, Blondie! Scar girl!" I hear, as a tall, lanky queen rushes up to me, a bit overly excited to see a stranger as her giant blonde curls bounce about.. "You look so CUTE, oh my goodness! I LOVE the creep factor with the scar!" She said, unaware of the real story behind my hideous markings.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Brandy?" A short, plump Asian girl-boy asked the first girl. She had a thick Chinese accent and a dark tan. She wore a dark red wig, the same color as Matt's hair. She continued, "That bitch is a BURN VICTIM. Why you gotta be so damn stupid, girl?"

Brandy looked horrified with herself. "No no no, I'm so sorry!" She offered me a tight hug and a sweet smile that demanded my forgiveness.

"It's fine," I chuckle. "Brandy, is it? I'm Mello. What's your name?" I turn to the stout woman on my left.

"Queen Kong." She smiled brightly. "Get it? I'm from Hong Kong." I couldn't help but smile a bit. These people were alright.

"Welcome to The Sassy Sip's bi annual drag competition! These lovely ladies are competing in a runway competition for these great prizes! …" I hear the announcer drone on and on about drag and travel and even some thing that have nothing to do with anything. One by one, the girls leave the dressing room and flaunt their expertly tailored, gaudily accessorized outfits. I suddenly feel very under dressed. Eventually, it's my time to walk the runway. I slowly walk out of the dressing room, nearly shaking with anticipation. With Brandy and Kong giving me cheesy smiles and the thumbs-up, I approach the runway.

I don't know what happened, really. Maybe it was the upbeat music, or maybe it was the excited crowd, but when I walked onto that catwalk I was the next fucking L and I was working it. I decided to make cutesy faces that complimented my dress; my over-the top expressions would have disgusted me moments before. I blew a kiss and winked at the judges, then walked off the stage. I've never felt more confident in my life.

After another long-ass speech for some blazing homosexual announcer, the results were in. Third place, Tatiana Toxic. Second place, Shaqueef O'Neal. First place… Mello?

This couldn't be. I was so happy, so confident, so proud. I imagined Matt and myself, just us, resting on the beaches of Martinique. That and the fucking MONEY. Oh hell yes. We could buy so much shit we don't even need with that! I accepted my prizes, took a few hundred more pictures, and finally returned home to my Matt.

I was going to surprise him, make him all disappointed then slap him in the face with a big ol' "I WON". I just couldn't do that, though. I was giggling like a schoolgirl as I unlocked and opened our door. Matt was waiting for me on the couch, watching some more dogs dressed like people. That show was still on?

I gave him the news and soon we were both squealing like the little kids we were. We started packing for our trip the very next day. I couldn't have been happier. I was finally going on a vacation! And with the love of my life. Matt was feeling like his old self again, face buried in his handheld. And yes, I HAVE done drag ever since.


End file.
